


Years of the Moon

by LiveOakWithMoss



Series: Punching out my dancelines [42]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Background Finrod/Curufin, Background....all the damn family members listen, Emails from the mainland, Honeymoon, M/M, Overinvolved families, Waterskiing consequences, it's been a while but you know how this goes, you know the drill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-11 07:23:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15967505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveOakWithMoss/pseuds/LiveOakWithMoss
Summary: Fingon and Maedhros celebrate their nuptials with a well deserved honeymoon far, far away from their families.They thought.





	Years of the Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jullikesmagpies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jullikesmagpies/gifts).



> 0\. I was resurrected from my semi-permanent hiatus when [delightfullynerdysweets](http://delightfullynerdysweets.tumblr.com/) came to me with an offer I couldn't refuse: a birthday commission for the incomparable [jul-likes-magpies](http://jul-likes-magpies.tumblr.com/). Thank you for commissioning me, and for allowing my brain to return to this long forgotten land. And thank you Juls, for being born <3  
> 1\. While you're at it, you should [check out the incredible job they did with printing and binding the complete works of DWMP](http://jul-likes-magpies.tumblr.com/post/177985600150/delightfullynerdysweets-niam-chan) \- of which this story serves as epilogue. Y'all are amazing.

**_Prologue_ **

Fingon half supported, half carried his husband over the threshold of their bedroom. Downstairs the party was rolling on, though crawling on may have been a better descriptor given the number of casks of Azaghâl’s finest they had gone through. Either way their families were certainly making an effort to stagger through to the dawn. Fingon, though, was ready to celebrate with only one person; the one draped long and loose over his shoulders and chortling to himself as he tried to nibble Fingon’s ears.

“Look, I almost carried you over the threshold, my blushing bride,” said Fingon, and then grunted as Maedhros leaned heavily on him and tried to find entrance into his suit. “Babe, stop wiggling so much.”

“There’s a lot to do,” mumbled Maedhros, groping for buttons and failing to find them. “I gotta…I gotta kiss this other bit, here. It’s my husband’s neck, see? And this is his earlobe, and this is his – oof – his nose…”

“Easy, sailor, save it for the – _hnng_.” Maedhros had found – and popped – several buttons, and was happily exploring. “Okay, I agree to this to do list.” Fingon dropped against the wall and slid down it to the floor, Maedhros crawling immediately into his lap. Fingon wheezed.

“I married a pile of knees,” he said, as Maedhros sucked on his neck. “How you can be this knobbly and this erotic I will never know.”

“Practice,” said Maedhros, before knocking his knee against the sideboard and causing Fingon to get up, call room service for ice, and make him drink some water.

Sometime later, a bruise rising like a Honolulu sunset on Maedhros’s leg, they found a spare moment to consummate their first night as a married couple.

For the second time.

“The bathroom at the reception hall was really the consummation that mattered,” said Maedhros, raising himself up on his elbows so he could drink some more water and then collapse back to the sheets.

The bed in the newlywed suite was very nice, Fingon thought, if unnecessarily large. He swam across the miles of silk sheets until he found his husband again, who was lying flat on his back, naked. Fingon made some approving sounds and tucked himself against Maedhros’s side in order to gnaw lovingly on his shoulder and whisper, “Hey, how drunk are you still?”

“I remember that we got married,” said Maedhros, his eyes closed, but he curled an arm around Fingon. “If that’s what you’re asking.” He cracked an eye. “We did get married, right?”

“Yes. Almost twice. Hence the consummation.”

“I figured that had to be instigated by something.” Maedhros kissed the top of his head and Fingon rested his chin on Maedhros’s chest, still scanning the room. There were curtains around the bed, and curtains on the windows, and so many flowers it was amazing they could walk to the bathroom without getting a hydrangea somewhere intimate. He found himself missing, just for a moment, their own bed: in their own small room with the sound of the street noise below, and no floral smells at all if Maedhros wasn’t experimenting with colognes that week.

“It went well, didn’t it?” said Maedhros sleepily. “’s far as I can remember.”

“Yes,” said Fingon. “I mean, your brother got attacked by a seagull and our cousins got rascally drunk and I lied and told your dad we were honeymooning at a sex colony just to get a rise out of him – Oh and he found out about my nipple piercings, somehow.”

Maedhros opened his eyes again. “Oh dear.” Then he turned slightly, his hand finding its way up Fingon’s chest. “I do like them though.” His fingers brushed against the gold hoops and Fingon bit his lip. “We should have given you…wedding nipple rings…”

Fingon tried not to laugh. “You _are_ still drunk. And I’d only do it if we gave you some too.” He tweaked one of Maedhros’s nipples, and Maedhros made a murmuring, complaining sort of noise and moved against the sheets.

“My father would _definitely_ not approve.”

“I don’t know,” said Fingon, propping himself up on one arm and studying Maedhros’s sleepy face. “We got him on board with you marrying me, and after that what’s a few piercings?”

“Can you believe it?” said Maedhros suddenly. “We’re married. You’re my husband.”

Fingon’s head swam in a way that had nothing to do with champagne, and he wrapped himself tightly around Maedhros. “Yes,” he said softly, for his younger self who wouldn’t have. “I can believe it.” And then again, because he knew it was really Maedhros who needed to hear it, “It makes all the sense in the world. Of course I get to keep you. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” whispered Maedhros, his eyes searching Fingon’s as if for confirmation. “Officially, since 6pm today. Informally, since… five minutes after I met you.”

Fingon told himself he wasn’t going to cry anymore today, so he grinned instead. “Totally mine. I signed the deed over from your father transferring ownership and everything – _ouch,_ easy there, Mr. Nolofinwion.”

“I will be, if you want,” said Maedhros, his fingers at Fingon’s nipples again.

“No, I was kidding. We discussed already and I like having us have the hyphenated name. Powerful union, and all that.”

“Powerful, yeah, but won’t fit on boarding passes easily.”

“How do you know?”

Maedhros grinned, suddenly mischievous in the dim light, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He pointed to an envelope next to the bed. “Because I already made the name change and it’s on my ID. And passport. And tickets to Hawaii.”

“You sneaky Feanorion devil.” Fingon climbed on top of Maedhros’s hips, entirely unnecessarily, so he could sit up and reach for the tickets.

“Only half now, legally,” said Maedhros, his hands running up Fingon’s thighs. “And I’m entirely your problem, the Rabbi said so.”

“He did, didn’t he,” sighed Fingon, and leaned down to kiss Maedhros Nolofinwion-Fea[...] soundly on the lips.

 

* * *

 

**_Hawaii, Two Days Later_ **

**To:** Maedhros

 ** **From:**** Maglor

 **Subject:** Stop having fun

Hi.

You’ve been married for three days and I’m over it.

I thought the low point was the seagull attack but it turns out that sitting around being single and lonely and feeling sorry for yourself while your brother/best friend is off in Hawaii with his husband (yeah hi Fingon no hard feelings) is actually worse than having your nipples pecked off by a psycho bird. I know Turgon said she wasn’t ‘psycho’, just ‘defending her young’, but I think she overreacted, frankly. I was just trying to help.

I know we haven’t lived together in ages and that, like, this was inevitable, but I am still drowning in ennui. Mom says I’m empty nesting, which was rude considering the bird, and also inaccurate since, as I said, we haven’t lived together in ages.

But I miss you. Marriage is stupid.

Hope the honeymoon is fun or whatever.

Love,

Maglor

PS You left me in a madhouse, just so you know.

 

 **To:** Maedhros

 **From:** Celegorm

 **Subject:** grately exagerated rumors

mae

Dont believe anythign mags might have written u. It was not a live pgeon! It was a dead one (NATURAL CAUSES) and it ended up in his bed on accidnet. I ws doing an experiemnt type thing with taxadermy n forgot about it n ardehel’s cat  drug it out of my drawr n the rest is hostory. IT DID NOT SQUISH THAT BAD i had mostly done an amazing job of perserving it.

Igf mags has not said anything to u about the pigeon then dont worry, there is no pigeon.

Hope the honeymoon is good i havnt heard what you thought of my wedding present yet (tell fingon ur welcome)

smoochez

Celegorm

 

 **To:** Fingon

 **From:** Aredhel

**Subject:**

Bitch did you see celegorm’s snap of maglor sitting on the pigeon

 

 **To:** Fingon

 **From:** Aredhel

 **Subject:** Re:

Lmao i totally forgot you were on your honeymoon

 

 **To:** Fingon

 **From:** Aredhel

 **Subject:** Re: Re:

No but seriously did you see it

 

* * *

 

“It was a pretty nice present,” said Fingon, hooking his chin over Maedhros’s shoulder and reading his email with an air of entitlement. “I’ve seen them in stores and I think they’re legit expensive.”

“I’m not using any dildo my brother has handled,” said Maedhros, closing the browser. “I don’t care how much he spent on it.”

Fingon’s natural curiosity of the carnal wrestled with his natural caution of all things Celegorm and caution won. He kissed Maedhros’s ear where a new freckle had appeared in the last 24 hours and smoothed the hair back from his husband’s brow. “You got some sun yesterday,” he observed. “SPF 75 might not be enough; maybe one of those fetching lime green and white visors from the resort gift shop?”

Maedhros looked pained. “Isn’t it too early in our marriage for me to start giving up on my appearance?”

“Honey, I knew you back when you thought boat-neck shirts were cutting edge fashion. I have sworn to love you for better and for worse and when it comes to the multitude of worsenesses we could face, I will take the dorky white dad fashion any day.”

“I’ll be a hot dad,” said Maedhros mutinously. “Just to prove you wrong.”

“So long as you’re not so hot you’re cancerous, I’m happy,” said Fingon, and kissed his other ear. “Get your swimsuit on, Fernando won’t wait all day.”  

 

* * *

 

They needn’t have worried. Fernando, as it transpired, had not been waiting for them. Nor was he concerned about making them wait a further two hours before he showed up on the beach to guide them through their pre-paid ocean experience.

“This waterboarding better be worth it,” muttered Maedhros from beneath his white and green visor. It had a flamingo on.

“Water skiing.”

“Same difference.”

This turned out to be true.

 

* * *

 

After they left the urgent care clinic, Maedhros’s arm in a sling and Fingon vowing vengeance on the negligent Fernando, they strolled across the broad boulevards, palm fronds catching the breeze off the water over their heads. Despite the spectacular failure of recreation, Fingon’s spirits were high and Maedhros even deigned to laugh at some of his jokes and hummed along when Fingon started to sing old Beach Boys hits with most of the words wrong.

Maedhros’s hair was beginning to dry, copper in the sunlight and crinkly from the salt, while Fingon had his wrapped in a Hawaiian print scarf that he called ‘on theme’ and Maedhros called ‘visually distracting.’ They passed food trucks and swarms of tourists, and Fingon tipped back his head and took in the sights from behind his sunglasses, enjoying the stir of humanity and the sun baking his bare shoulders. As they crossed the street, seeking a shadier sidewalk, Fingon’s attention was caught by a slightly built figure, squinting into the sun like its presence was a personal affront.

He drew up short, even as the figure continued on its way.

“Honey?”

Maedhros paused mid bar of Don’t Worry Baby. “Yes?”

“Know how I said the best wedding present for you was gonna be spending a solid week literally no longer on the same landmass as your father?”

“Yes. I appreciate you not putting that in your vows, by the way.” Maedhros’s nose was starting to peel, but the clusters of freckles on his shoulders made him look almost tan. If you squinted.

“Well, I’m still technically correct, but…”

“But?”

Fingon let out a breath. “Don’t look now, but I’m 99% sure your little brother is standing next to that bahn mi stand.”

“Ha ha ha,” said Maedhros, turning to look. “That’s not even remotely fu-”

 

* * *

 

 **To** : Maedhros

 **From** : Feanor

 **Subject** : Calm down

Dear Maedhros,

As I was in a client meeting this afternoon, I was unable to answer your call. I did enjoy listening to your voicemail; it is always a pleasure to hear my children's voices, even when they are hysterical and are cut off mid-stream due to the time limit.

I could have done without the baseless accusations, however. Also some of the profanity. I am writing because I imagine giving you some time to calm down before speaking would be productive and give you time to reflect on how ridiculous you are being.

I shall address your concerns in order but in brief: No, I did not ‘send’ an ‘emissary’ to ‘spy’ on you and your husband.

Here are the facts.

  1. I was unable to attend a key trade conference myself due to the aforementioned client meeting, and so I asked someone with similar interests, expertise, and a need to network if he would be interested in attending in my stead. He said yes.
  2. He is not an emissary, he is your brother.
  3. Curufin is in Honolulu to attend, as I said, a trade show. He is there, as the end of his undergraduate career approaches, to make contacts and establish himself with many of the key figures in his (and my) field. (The fact that his partner encouraged him to attend since he was exploring post-doctoral positions at the University of Hawaii - or so he claimed - is incidental at best.)
  4. I do not know why you think I would need to spy on you. I know what you are doing. You are on your honeymoon. The details of what you undertake on such a venture are entirely your business, especially if they have anything to do with the ‘sex colony’ your husband alluded to. (I suspect, however, that this was him ‘trolling’ me.)



Next time you call, please refrain from shouting as your voice reaches an unattractively shrill register when you get excited. Please also acquaint yourself with the facts before lobbing baseless accusations. And finally, if you do see your brother, remind him to apply sunscreen. You should too.

All my best to you - and to Fingon. Do not let him drag you anywhere dangerous.

Love,

Dad

PS When you get home, don’t forget to do your thank you notes. Your mother wanted me to mention it.

 

* * *

 

“Heaven.” Finrod rolled over on his blanket and crooked an arm over his face to block out the sun. His hair was the color of the brilliant sand and his skin almost as burnished a gold. His swimsuit was somewhere between ‘dangerously stylish’ and ‘obscene.’

He was also wearing a lei.

Curufin tried to draw more of himself under the beach umbrella and dropped the pile of business cards he’d been trying to alphabetize. “I thought heaven was supposed to be the cooler one.”

“What about this is uncool? This is the trendiest beach on Oahu. Also, my sunglasses cost $300.”

“I meant as in temperature, Rockefeller.” Curufin shoved the business cards into his briefcase, which had already been stained with sunscreen, and peered myopically down the beach over the rims of his own sunglasses. “And if you keep flaunting yourself like this you might be noticed.”

“I certainly hope so.” Finrod smiled lazily at him and Curufin burrowed his toes under the sand beneath Finrod’s ribs so he could prod at him.

“I’m supposed to be discreet. And you’re supposed to be researching postdoctoral fellowships, not sunbathing.”

“Two things can be true, darling. And can I just say once more, with all due respect and affection, that it is _fucked_ that your dad sent you on your brother’s honeymoon?”

“He did not. There happened to be a makers convention in Waikīkī. My brother happens to be honeymooning in the same island chain. _Two things can be true._ ” Curufin made a face at Finrod, who grinned. “And yes, fine, he said to make sure Maedhros doesn't do anything stupid or dangerous but that’s - Hang on.” His phone was buzzing and he held up a finger and rummaged in the briefcase until he retrieved it. Several text messages had come in.

_You can stop being discreet. He saw you._

_Just enjoy the conference, you can forget everything else._

_Also, you failed step one - Fingon took him waterskiing._

_-Dad_

 

* * *

 

 **To:** Celegorm

 **From:** Curufin

 **Subject:** Re: oops

I can’t believe you spilled beer on my server. I can’t BELIEVE you. Literally all I said was ‘don’t touch my shit’, that was my one directive, and what do you do? You spill beer in my server.

You owe me $300 and I’m never speaking to you again.

 

 **To:** Curufin

 **From:** Celegorm

 **Subject:** Re: re: oops

Peanut im so sorry what dyou whant me to do i can wear the hare shirt or whip myself with thorns or maybe comit harry kari with a steak knife wuld that b reaosnale

Srsly tho u should thank me the only reaosn i was in there  was to keep the chickens outta ur bsns they was going snooping and u better believe they was determined to find shit. So really I protected you. Beer is encryption!!! Now u wont have 2 teenagers seein all the nudes from finrod on that protected file labeled ‘research’ ;O

I will deliver the 300$ in person (lol this is a joke i do not have 300$) becuz i am headed to hawai rn, i m being comped by caranthir who is going for idk papaya research i think it’s a beer thing., telchar is paying.

I will see u in 17 hrs with the 35$ i owe u.

love

Celegorm

 

* * *

 

“I can’t believe this,” said Maedhros, looking as distraught as it was possible to be while wearing only a sling and Fingon’s boxer shorts. “I can’t believe I go to literal paradise with my literal husband -”

“Aw!”

“ - only to discover my brother is here as a plant and my father is stalking me from four time zones away.”

“Be fair,” said Fingon, who was looking a lot less distraught and wearing nothing at all, “we haven’t actually caught him following us and there really is a conference happening at the Waikīkī convention center. I checked. Walked in and had a bunch of nerds give me weird looks and everything.”

“That’s because you weren’t wearing a shirt,” said Maedhros. “And because of your new nipple piercings.” The gold shark’s teeth certainly were eye-catching. Clothes- and flesh-catching too, if it came to that. “But hold up, are you actually trying to be fair to my _father_? You do remember who he is, right? You haven’t been bodysnatched, right?”

“Listen,” said Fingon, rolling onto his back so the shark’s teeth glinted in the light. “I’m just trying to enjoy my honeymoon without losing my husband to seven anxiety attacks in a single afternoon. C’mon, let me distract you, how bad can it-”

Outside on the beach, something started to howl.

 

* * *

 

 **To:** Maedhros

 **From:** Maglor

 **Subject:** Alas, for I am forsaken

Dear Maedhros,

Let it be known that this is my last missive to you. After this I am cutting off all contact, due to BETRAYAL.

What do I find on wandering into our brother’s room this morning? Not he. Certainly not his luggage, his swimsuit, or his stupid suntan oil that I didn’t even know they made anymore. What I do find is his stupid smelly giant dog and a note for care instructions - horrifically misspelled - while he is away. You read that correctly. AWAY.

Baffled and irritated, I take it on myself to text our other brothers to consult on this odd disappearance. What do I hear in return? NOT sympathy and explanation and offers of help. Not anything, actually, from Curufin, because he hasn’t actually answered my texts since 2016. But from Caranthir I hear my worst fears confirmed. Where are my three brothers?

WITH YOU.

IN HAWAII.

If I’d known that accompanying you on your honeymoon was an option, you KNOW I would have been there in a heartbeat (funding contingent, I’m still waiting on those royalties from Daeron.) But I suppose you thought this would be a heartbreaking enough way to inform me that you love our other siblings more than me.

Friendship - over. Brotherhood - shattered. Trust - irreparably broken.

I want the record player I got you for your wedding present back.

In sorrow,

Maglor

 

 **To:** Maglor

 **From:** Maedhros

 **Subject:** Re: Alas, for I am forsaken

Are you kidding me.

You think i WANT to find out i am being shadowed by literally a miniature dad??? You think i WANT to learn i am overspending my honeymoon budget thanks to a note written on our dinner bill by a pedantic accountant who also comes over to inform me i ordered the worst possible wine??? YOU THINK I WANT TO BE WOKEN EVERY MORNING BY CELEGORM DOING HIS SEAWOLF HOWL WITH THE POSSE OF IDENTICAL MUSCLEHEADS HE IMMEDIATELY BONDED WITH? ON THE BEACH? OUTSIDE MY WINDOW?

Also he’s somehow already seen fingon naked. Twice. This is more times than i have seen fingon naked in the last two days because i am officially too paranoid to have sex with my husband now.

I do not need your theatrics rn i need HE L P

Maedhros

PS what record player, the only thing we got from you for our wedding was a note that said ‘IOU when the royalties come in. kisses, mags’

PPS come to think of it, i’m calling this IOU in. for my wedding gift, i would like you to get every blood relative of mine off this island. Thanks.

 

* * *

 

Nerdanel was hard at work on her latest commission, an anatomically correct representation of her client’s husband. Or at least, Maglor hoped this was the one of the husband, because the other commission Nerdanel had mentioned was a statue of the mayor and this would be taking public exposure just a whisker too far.

Maglor dropped his gaze to avoid making eye contact with those disturbingly blank granite eyes, made eye contact with a blank granite phallus instead, and shut his own eyes altogether.

“Mom?”

“What’s up, ducky?”

“Y’know how Maedhros is in Hawaii?”

Nerdanel sighed and picked up her chisel. Maglor flinched as he heard it start to perform what sounded like a vigorous circumcision. “Yes. I know you’re lonely about it but isn’t that what art is for? Channel that angst into, I don’t know,” a chip of granite dropped to the ground, “a ballad? Or maybe -”

“I’m not coming to you with angst,” said Maglor, with dignity and something approaching but not quite honesty. “I’m coming to you for assistance.”

“With?”

“With getting the rest of the family _back_ from Hawaii so Maedhros can actually have the place to himself for a hot second.”

Nerdanel poked her head around from her project’s shoulder and Maglor was surprised to see an expression of sheepishness on her face. “I guess this is a bad time to mention where I just sent the twins for surf camp, huh?”

 

* * *

 

“My family is useless,” said Maedhros, slamming his computer shut on the latest email from Maglor. “ _Useless_. And this is all a conspiracy, I swear. We should have gone north instead, somewhere cold and windy where no one could possibly want to attend camp. You scoffed at that Himring Hill BnB up in New Brunswick but I’m telling you, there definitely wouldn’t have been a makers’ conference there.”

Fingon sighed. The honeymoon suite was inarguably lovely, with sweeping views of the beach and windows that tossed the scent of ocean through billowing linen curtains. It would have been nice if Maedhros had allowed them to open the curtains at any point over the last several days. Or emerge from the room at all other than to do covert dashes down to the gift shop for more coconut water. Being shut in a room with Maedhros was hardly punishment, of course, especially with a bed that big, but neither of them was in a particularly amorous mood and Fingon’s tan was starting to fade.

“Right,” he said, as Maedhros flung himself down in the wicker chaise longue and plucked moodily at his sling. “Then it’s time to call in the big guns.”

“Big guns?”

“You forget,” said Fingon, “that you have twice as much immediate family now as you did before, and mine is not insane. Well, mostly.”

 

* * *

 

 **To:** Feanor

 **From:** Fingolfin

 **Subject:** Greetings from Honolulu!

Dear Feanor,

I remember you mentioning in some frustration that you had to stay on the mainland for what I think you described as ‘plausible deniability’ (it’s possible I misheard, of course, you were speaking in a very low voice on the other side of the room) so I thought I’d send you this photo as a little consolation prize! In it you will see myself and Anaire on Waikīkī Beach, in front of the Honeymooner’s Hotel.

_[Fingolfin has attached an image]_

See? It’s almost as good as being here yourself! You’ll also be pleased to note I’ve seen your sons - about half of them, anyway - and they appear in good health if rather badly sunburned. Remember that time we went to the Cape and you were hospitalized for deciding to ‘skip sunscreen’? It’s like that, but not as impressive.

We’ve been staying in the honeymoon suite, which has proved to be a little confusing to your third, fourth, and fifth sons, who keep lurking in the hallway and beneath the balcony, doing what I believe is ‘reconnaissance’. They were very surprised when Anaire and I finally emerged to greet them (after allowing a good twelve hours headstart), as I understand they were under the impression, that Maedhros and Fingon would be there instead. We let them know that in fact the happy couple had headed out on a dawn chartered flight to [island name redacted] but we’d be happy to go to the pig roast with them and send you as many pictures as you could desire.

All’s well that ends well, eh? Sorry you couldn’t be here.

Warm regards from your brother-in-law,

Fingolfin

PS I think your youngest is homesick; he keeps trying to swim for the mainland.


End file.
